Four Minutes
by Sweedledome
Summary: 1983. The Cold War has had the country gripped in fear for years now. The government can only detect the launch of a nuclear missile from four minutes away. You only get four minutes before they hit. Beca needs to figure out what she's doing with hers. AU. One shot. Bechloe.


_**This one-shot operates in a hypothetical world where nuclear bombs are deployed on the US during the Cold War. Despite my best efforts, it is also probably highly inaccurate, please just roll with it.**_

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><p><span>Four Minutes<span>

**1983, Atlanta.**

"Thanks Beca." Beca smiled wistfully after her favourite customer as the red head left the shop. Since the moment Chloe had come waltzing in to Mitchell's General Convenience Store and stacked it into Beca's carefully arranged flour pyramid, Beca had been captivated. After apologising profusely for the large flour cloud that had slowly settled all around the shop, Chloe had insisted on taking the time to help Beca clean everything up before her father chastised her for improper shop management. So began their odd friendship…and Beca's secret infatuation.

Beca kept her feelings to herself though. With so much prejudice in her area against…that sort of "unnatural" behaviour, Beca was well aware of the repercussions of acting on her little crush. There were moments when Beca thought Chloe might reciprocate the unspoken desires of Beca's own heart. Lingering touches and countless hours spent chatting to Beca when her father left her in charge of the shop suggested Beca wasn't the only one who felt the connection…but the consequences could be dire if she had misread the signs.

Beca watched Chloe's figure disappear from sight before switching on the radio and grabbing a broom to make sure the shop was in a clean state before her father returned, lest he lecture her once again on protocol. Beca knew he was simply trying to make sure she had a good future by having an established shop to run, but that wasn't what she wanted to do with her life and she wished he could see that.

The radio crackled to life slowly, distorted and disembodied voice made their way through the air. Beca did her best not to groan. She yearned for music. For the sound of instruments and an escape from her reality. The reality boring, stuffy voices were discussing right now. The implementation of four minute warning system in 1953 had cause mass panic at the time. If nukes were launched, they'd only be able to detect them from four minutes away. To go from having your entire life spread out in front of you to four single minutes…everyone had been terrified. The fear had faded though, years passed and the Cold War went on.

Harsh, barely veiled threats were passed between the US and Russia but no war was declared and no nuclear bombs were dropped. Not since Nagasaki in 1945. Beca didn't even feel the panic. She had been born two years after the four minute public warning system even came into effect. It had been around her entire life. The fear was always there but…it just seemed so unlikely somehow. Not after all this time.

Beca hummed a few bars of 'Heart of Glass' to herself before sighing and deciding to actually tune in to what was being said on the news for once.

_"…following Regan's announcement on March 8th declaring the Soviet Union as an 'evil empire', relations between the two powers have increased in tension. Reports of activity in the USSR suggest that there…hold on a moment listeners."_ Beca's head whipped up in confusion to stare at the stereo. They rarely interrupted the news report unless…unless something significant happened. Muffled voices grew in agitation as Beca waited for something, anything to come out of that radio.

_"Attention!"_ The announcer sounded out of breath and panicked. _"The Soviets have deployed nuclear missiles. Anyone living in or in close proximity to the city of Atlanta, you have four minutes until you are hit. I repeat, anyone living in or in close proximity to the city of Atlanta has four minutes until you are hit by nuclear missiles…."_

The radio host's frantic instructions for cover were drowned out by the roar of panic in Beca's ears. That's when the sirens began. An unearthly wail ringing from speakers on every street corner. The sound she had been taught to fear since birth. She could see the citizens on the street look up as the dread began to sink in.

Atlanta.

That was her.

Her home.

Four minutes.

Four minutes until it was all gone.

All of it.

Including…including _her_.

A wooden broom clattered to the floor as Beca ran full tilt out of the shop. She didn't have time to think. To judge, evaluate or question her actions. She had four minutes. That might not even be enough time to catch her.

Beca felt her chest constrict with the sudden exertion, unused to any form of real exercise, her breath ran out quickly. Something pushed her forwards, an unknown source of determination deep within her. If she only had four minutes then she was going to do something with them.

Terrified people ran past her, jostling her, trying to get to a loved one before everything came crashing down. Worry began to seize Beca, what if she couldn't find her? What if her last moments were spent alone on a pavement in a sea of lonely people?

"Beca!" Beca peered desperately around the street, trying to locate the source of the cry. A flash of red on the opposite side of the road caught her attention. She hurtled herself to the other pavement, narrowly dodging speeding cars as she did so. Reaching Chloe, she grabbed her hands and tugged the red head into the alcove, out of the way of others running past.

"Hi." Beca panted, wrapping Chloe in her arms and relishing her physical presence.

"Hey." Chloe whispered back, arms locked tightly around Beca. It all seemed so casual in the chaos surrounding them. An eerie calm swept over Beca as she held Chloe tight. She didn't want to let go but she could feel Chloe pulling back. She didn't have time to ask why before Chloe pressed her lips against Beca's own in a desperate kiss. "I'm sorry." Chloe said, ending the kiss and withdrawing. "I just…I had to do that before…" Beca hooked a hand round the back of Chloe's neck and drew her back in. The sounds of pandemonium in the background faded to nothing as two pairs of lips slanted passionately across each other.

"I just had to do that too." Beca smiled when they finally parted.

"You feel it too?"

"I always felt it." Chloe smiled sadly at the words she had always hoped to hear from Beca before turning to look at the blind horror around them.

"This is really it, isn't it?" Fear penetrated Chloe's voice in the midst of the havoc. Beca wished she had some words of comfort but all she could think about was all the time she and Chloe could have had together.

"I think so." She nodded, blinking back the tears at what was about to happen. Chloe's firm voice surprised her with her next words.

"I should have kissed you that first day. That first day in the shop. I should have _said _something. We could have had longer." Beca cupped the angry red head's face and turned it to face her own until they were breathing the same air. Her words came out at a whisper as she took in all that was Chloe.

"We have now. It's not long but…if we do die in the next minute or so…I'm glad it's with you. I'm glad we got this one minute." Chloe's hands came up to trace Beca's own features, trying to memorise each beautiful part of her.

"Me too. When the sirens went off…I thought about who I needed to find and…I needed to find you. Out of all the people in this world, out of all the places I could be, there is no where I'd rather be than right here, right now, with you." Chloe couldn't hold back her tears at the injustice of it all. Of all the time they could have had. All the time they s_hould _have had.

"Hey, hey now, don't cry. I'm here." Beca softly soothed, brushing away Chloe's tears.

"I know." Chloe allowed the calm of Beca's eyes to bring her to peace. They were together. That was enough.

"Are you scared?" Beca asked. Chloe shook her head.

"Not any more." Chloe brought their lips back together one final time as the bomb hit. The last thing either of them knew of this world was each other.

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><p><em>Cry, laugh, feel love, peace, panic,<em>

_These are your four minutes,_

_(I'm counting you down, four minutes of sound,_

_It's always a rush when you're around)_

_The final story is one of me,_

_Who with four minutes left has used up three,_

_I think of you, I think of me,_

_Then I think of nothing, it's the end you see_

Four Minute Warning – Mark Owen

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><p><em><strong>When my friends and I were studying the Cold War in History and we learnt about the four minute warning system that acted as a nuclear deterrent, we ended spending literally hours trying to figure out what we would do with our final four minutes. It came up again in conversation the other day and it got me thinking so…this happened. What would you do with your four minutes?<strong>_


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